Thursday, November 12, 2009

Jerry Garcia, Eat Your Heart Out

Happy Thursday, crime fucks. Are you looking for some cheap, tawdry thrills? A hardboiled kick in the ass? Then you've come to the right place, a world full of strippers, mobsters and freaky private eyes ... at That Killing Feeling.

Time for the start of a new story today, folks. You just read the first Carrie Love private eye joint, LEGS ... and now it's time to unveil the most recent one, written earlier this year ...

In LITTLE GIRL BLUE, Carrie 'meets cute' with Blue Wonder, a young girl who's sister Jonna was murdered. The cops say it was a suicide, but Blue knows that 'just ain't true.'

Problem is, Jonna was working as a stripper. So Blue ditches going home from college to her parent's house on Christmas Eve ...

To go undercover at her strip club.

Ladies and gentlemen, get ready for a 'fucked-up Christmas' ...

Hope you enjoy.


EXT. STRIP CLUB - NIGHT
The gut-kicking metal PUNCH
of The Cult’s LOVE REMOVAL MACHINE over --
Fantasy Island Gentleman’s Club.
About a mile from the beach on the outskirts of Santa Monica.
Not exactly in disrepair, but not fancy, either.
A meat and potatoes strip joint.

Parking lot a quarter-full on a Sunday night.
Sign reads ‘AmateUr NiGht’. ‘HApPy HolIdaze.’

FEMALE VOICE (O.C.)
The ‘Gentleman’s club’ is an interesting phenomenon.
Men will pay hard-earned cash to go to a place
where they can see naked women.
Where they can look, but not touch.
And they’ll spend even more money for a private dance,
where they can get ‘up close and personal’ with a girl.
(beat)
But there’s still no touching allowed.
No contact whatsoever. It’s the ultimate tease.
A gentle torture. Erotic pleasure -- with no release.
No climax. No -- closure.
(beat)
Kinda like going to a restaurant and not being able to eat.
Or going to a whorehouse and not being able to --
(beat)
Never mind. You get the idea.

ANGLE ON --
A beat-up Dodge Dart Swinger convertible.

A YOUNG WOMAN sits behind the wheel.
Listening to the music on the car stereo.
Nodding her head, eyes closed.
PUNCHING her fists in the air.

Meet BLUE WONDER (20),
recent transplant from the Midwest.
Tall and gawky, a gazelle still on the cusp.
Long brown hair tied in a ponytail.
Studious-looking glasses.

Which clashes with her denim cutoffs and black vinyl halter top.
Not to mention the six-inch platforms.

ANGLE ON --
Her lovely tan legs move to the music.

ANGLE ON --
She takes off her glasses.
Puts them on the dashboard.

RIPS out her scrunchie.
SHAKES her hair like a wild woman.

BLUE
(sings)
'Scarlet woman, bought me a be-er --'

She stops. SHUTS OFF the music.
Looks in the rearview mirror.

BLUE (CONT’D)
I can’t do it.
What the hell was I thinking.

MALE VOICE (O.C.)
You dancing tonight?

A GOOD-LOOKING JOCK appears next to the car. Grinning.

BLUE
I was -- thinking about it.

GOOD-LOOKING JOCK
Better think harder.
You’ll win, no problem.

BLUE
You really think so?

GOOD-LOOKING JOCK
You’re not from around here, are you?

BLUE
It shows, huh.

INT. FANTASY ISLAND - MOMENTS LATER
Marilyn Manson’s THE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE, LOUD, over --

The club. Dark, with a bar running along one wall.
A handful of CUSTOMERS on stools.
A couple of DANCERS lounge at the end, chatting.
Christmas decorations look odd, out of place.

The BARTENDER cleans a glass, watching -

THE STAGE
On it, GOTHIKA (18), pale, skinny --
and, you guessed it --
totally goth, is working the pole.

Down to her black G-string.
Pierced nipple rings glistening in the pin-spot.

She looks great, if you like that death-warmed-over look.
But she’s jacked up on something -- speed, maybe PCP --
and it’s making her move more like a stormtrooper than a stripper.

Even the Santa hat doesn’t help.

THE FRONT DOOR
Opens. In walks Blue.

She’s made up her face.
Almost unrecognizable.
Painted, tarted-up.
And scared to death.

She walks over to the bar.
Tentative in platforms.

Sits precariously on a stool.
Bartender glides over. Pounces.

BARTENDER
Here for the contest?

BLUE
Uh -- yeah.

BARTENDER
Name your poison.
On the house.

BLUE
A Heinekin and a shot, please.

BARTENDER
Jack okay?

BLUE
Sure. Thanks.

He turns to get her drink.

FEMALE VOICE (O.C.)
Woman after my own heart.

Blue turns, looks, sees --

CARRIE LOVE
On the stool next to her.
Rakish in jeans,
white t-shirt and motorcycle jacket.
Ponytail. Naughty red lips.

Bright blue eyes full of secrets.
What momma warned you about.

We recognize her voice from the opening voiceover.

CARRIE
Shot and a beer.
Simple. Perfect.
All-American.

BLUE
Uh -- yeah.

CARRIE
(offers hand to shake)
Carrie Love.
Just making small-talk.
I would imagine you’re a bit nervous.

BLUE
(takes it, shakes)
Hi. Yeah. Thanks. I’m -- Blue.

CARRIE
Blue?
I would have figured you for a Becky or a Susie.
Heather, maybe.

BLUE
Parents are old hippies.

Carrie raises her shot glass --

CARRIE
Jerry Garcia, eat your heart out.

And DOWNS it.

2 comments:

  1. Good stuff as always, Carole. And what a great picture at the top of the post.

    ReplyDelete